Home Sweet Home
by TheDanishWriter
Summary: AU Rumbelle reunion. Both of them remember, and both believe that the other is oblivious.
1. Chapter 1

**It is safe to say that I am hooked on _Once Upon A Time_, and also the ship of Rumbelle. All those crazy feelz, huh? And so, after being sick for four days, I decided to write this. I have no idea if I should continue it or keep it as a one-shot. You tell me. Also, English is my second language, and I have no beta. I apologize for grammar errors.  
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**Disclaimer: _It would've been great._**

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**Home Sweet Home**

Lucy French was curiously watching a couple from her booth, sharing a smile of knowledge with the little boy sitting in front of her. She was wearing a blue summer dress, one she did not remember buying, much like all the other clothes in her small apartment. The diner was also something new, as were the names surrounding her.

Mary Margaret, David, Ashley, Ruby, Archie, August, Emma, Henry.

The only name that had not changed over the year was the mayor's. Regina. Lucy tried not to cringe at the very thought of the horrible woman, though she had never told the little Henry what she thought of his mother. She figured he needed to stay in the belief that his mother was… Well, he did not think she was perfect, not with the things he claimed to know. He even knew about the apple incident. Still, Lucy did not want the dislike between mother and son to be fueled. She kept quiet.

"Anything I can help you with?" Lucy looked up to find the slightly inappropriate dressed Ruby. Despite her chosen outfit – and despite the fact that she used to eat a couple of men every month – Lucy liked the girl. Ruby was really not to blame when it came to the wolf-thing, she had never been.

The little Henry nudged Lucy with his foot, bringing her out of her thoughts. "Oh, right," she said, smiling her apology at Ruby. "Tea, please. Anything you have."

Ruby scribbled down the order and looked at Henry, who ordered some kind of pie. Then the waitress left them, and Lucy went back to staring at the couple with the strange names.

"Don't they look cute?" she asked Henry, who looked at her as if she had just told him that snakes wore fur coats. "What?"

"Come on," he said, shaking his head. "They love each other, but they are my _grandparents_. It's getting a little weird, don't you think?"

Lucy shrugged. "I don't know," she mumbled, looking longingly at the raven-haired woman. She looked so happy. At least she was getting her happy ending. "_I_ think it's cute." She was handed a mug and smiled thankfully at Ruby. Carefully, she placed it at the table. She was not going to break this one. "But I see your point," she added.

They sat in silence for a while, Lucy watching the royal couple for a few more seconds, while Henry was caught up in thoughts.

"So," he finally said, feeling like it was the best time to interrupt the beauty's thoughts. Mary Margaret and David had just kissed goodbye, and now Mary Margaret was sitting at their table alone. He took a bite of his pie before opening the book lying on the table. Lucy had already read it, she was, after all, a bookworm, but Henry wanted to show her something. Her story. "Did you know that you're in here as well?"

He expected her to be surprised, angry even, but Lucy just smiled knowingly and nodded. "I figured as much," she answered. "I just hope whoever has written it didn't use my diary." She winked jokingly but quickly became serious. "So you know who I am?"

Henry frowned. "Yes," he said hesitantly. "You remember?" He smiled broadly at the thought. Finally. August had proven not to be enough, but with Lucy's help they might get Emma convinced.

"I do," the beauty answered and took a few sips of her tea. She put the mug down and took a deep breath. There was no returning if she admitted her true identity to someone other than herself. There was no escaping and running away, and there was no way she would be able to keep hanging on to Lucy French's fake life. "I'm Belle," she finally whispered, sending Henry a secretive smile.

Henry nodded, a grin plastered on his face. "Yes," he said happily.

He was just about to bombard her with questions when his mother showed up, cutting him off before he even got the chance to start. Luckily, it was the blonde one. Emma. She apologized to Belle about Henry's crazy theories and his book before she pulled him with her out of the diner.

Belle could not help but smile. _Henry's mother must really love him,_ she thought to herself and drank the last of her tea. If only Belle had the chance to love again. But her chance was gone, like he was, and she really should not think about it. She should not give her dreams any more fuel.

The sound of a bell signaled the arrival of a new costumer. Belle, curious to learn everything she could about the town and the people in it, looked up.

And her heart stopped.

There, in the diner just a few steps from the door, stood he. The man her dreams were always about.

Rumplestiltskin.

Belle gripped her mug with both hands and stared at him with wonder. It was he, and yet it was not. He had the same look in his eyes, and he was dressed neatly, just like before. But his skin was healthy, it was _human_, and so was the rest of him. He had never been a beast or a monster, but he had never been so … human either. He was even limping and needed the help of a cane to move around.

The cane. Yes, Belle had seen what it could do. The first one to greet her outside of the asylum had been her father, beaten up and staggering around on shaking legs. She was not sure what to think about that; clearly the rent meant a lot to this new Rumplestiltskin.

Was his greed for power going to kill any little chance they still had left?

Belle shook her head and looked away from the man. Her thoughts were so naïve. They would never have a second chance. Not in this world, at least. She could not stand knowing the entire truth while he was blessed by amnesia and a new life. No, she should stay away from him and respect his wishes from their previous lives.

"Miss French."

So much for staying away from him.

Belle looked up and smiled politely at this new Rumplestiltskin. He sounded like himself, especially with his accent still working for him. His voice was all smooth silk, though, no high-pitched noises, and Belle had to admit that she missed them.

"It's good to see you up and about again," he continued politely, a vague glint of real concern in his eyes. He hid it well, but Belle knew him, and he had never been able to hide anything from her.

Belle was not sure what to say; she didn't even know his name in this world. It was probably best to stick to the safe answer, hoping he would introduce himself. "Thank you, it is good to be up and about," she answered, feeling awkward. How did Henry and August do this on regular basis? "But please, call me Lucy."

This was so wrong. He was not supposed to call her Lucy; he was supposed to call her Belle. He was supposed to let her fall into his arms, not just stand there with a half smile on his face and look at her as if they had never met. He was supposed to _love_ her. Instead she was a complete stranger to him. He might know her name, but he did not know her. And it was killing her.

True love was never easy. _Anything_ between the two of them would never be easy.

"Lucy," Rumplestiltskin agreed with a nod. "I'm Mr. Gold."

Belle, who had just taken a gulp of the new tea Ruby had brought her, spat out the liquid in surprise and she failed miserably when she tried not to giggle. Seriously? Mr. _Gold_? Regina had been a bit lazy when she had picked his name, hadn't she?

Rum- _Mr. Gold_ raised his eyebrows but smiled softly. "Is my name amusing to you, dearie?"

Belle was collecting all of the napkins from the little box on the table. She was still smiling, despite the heartache she felt when hearing the endearment. "Just a bit," she admitted and wiped away all traces of tea on the table. In the process, she knocked the mug down from the table. She had to shake her head. Great. Now there was tea all over the floor as well. Luckily, Ruby came to her aid and insisted to help her cleaning up. Not before sending Mr. Gold a judging look, though.

Mr. Gold kept quiet while Ruby and Belle were cleaning up, but Belle could practically _feel_ his stare. She ignored it and thanked Ruby before picking up the mug. It was chipped. Belle frowned and put it on the table. Well, it might spark something in Mr. Gold's mind. She looked up to find him staring at her.

"What?" she asked and could not help but smile when she added, "It's just a cup."

Belle noticed something in Mr. Gold's eyes, a glint of something. Something she had only seen once. Surprise; almost shock. So he did recognize the words. That was a start.

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**I know what you're thinking, and yes, Rumplestiltskin/Mr. Gold does remember Belle... But she doesn't need to know that ;-) Leave a review if you want me to continue! And leave suggestions, _please._**

**Until tomorrow, dearies!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I have been convinced to continue the story! This chapter will be from Mr. Gold/Rumplestiltskin's point of view, but the next one will be from Belle's. _Italics are flashback_. If you want to know what songs I listen to while writing this, I have written down the songs in my profile.**

**My first language is Danish, not English, and I have no beta. Therefore I apologize in advance for grammar errors.**

**Disclaimer: Shut the front door._  
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**Home Sweet Home, chapter two**

There she was, with her wide, blue eyes and chestnut curls, beautiful as ever, and she had no idea what she had just done.

His morning had started like every other Saturday morning; waking up at the shop after doing some paperwork the night before, cursing his leg while walking home to take a shower and change, and then stopping by Granny's to get a cup of coffee and some breakfast. Only, this morning he did not get to the breakfast, and it was _her_ fault.

She had been the first thing he had seen when stepping inside, but he had forced himself to look away and act oblivious. If his Belle could not remember him, then he would not sabotage any little chance they had by making her feel uncomfortable. It did not seem like it had worked, though, because when he had finally looked at her, she had been staring at her mug. Only when he had addressed her, she looked up.

And now she was sitting by the table, oblivious to the many emotions running through Mr. Gold's body; happiness, surprise, heartbreak, confusion and remorse. He had regretted his decision to throw Belle out of his castle for many years now, but he had never regretted it as much as now. She was thinner than she used to be, and even though she was smiling, there was not that constant stubborn glint in her eyes that Gold loved.

"Care if I join you?" he suddenly asked, remembering the reason why he was in the diner in the first place; breakfast.

Belle shook her head, still smiling. As if Gold needed any more proof that she did not remember. If she had remembered, she would never have smiled. She would have cursed him and yelled at him and possibly hit him. He deserved it, the selfish fool that he was.

Gold sat down in front of her and let his cane drop to the floor. Anything to make her forget that he was a monster.

Ruby came by their table, asking Mr. Gold about his order. Gold tried to ignore the curious looks Belle sent him and ordered a cup of coffee, black, and a Danish pastry. They sat in silence for a while.

"So what, may I ask you, are you doing in here on a beautiful day like this?" Gold finally asked Belle, who narrowed her eyes for some reason. She looked vaguely surprised by his question, as if he was acting odd and out of character.

Oh. She had listened to the rumors, hadn't she? And now she did not think that a beast like him could be polite. That was a shame.

Belle answered, though, and her voice did not show any reluctance. She actually sounded amused, much like when Rumplestiltskin had given her the rose. "I had a meeting with the little boy, Henry. He wanted to show me his book."

The famous book. Gold had seen the boy carrying it around, and he was perfectly clear of its contents. Henry did not show it to everyone, though, only Emma and a few others, and it was always in the context of his "Operation Cobra". If Henry had shown the book to Belle, then she had to be interested – more so than the usual interest she had in books – or maybe she even remembered. But then, why had she not told him that she did?

"Oh," Gold only said, and took the coffee and pastry that were handed him. He made sure to sound interested, though. If this were a way for Belle to remember, then he would do anything to make her talk about the book. It was rarely hard to make Belle talk about her books; once, she had talked for hours about some grand novel that was not even in the Dark Castle's library. He had made sure to buy it later, though.

"He believes that we are all fairytale characters, and that we are trapped in this world with no memory of our previous lives," Belle said, proving to Gold how well he knew her.

Gold shook his head, amused. "Ah. Well, the kid has a vivid imagination."

"Indeed he has," Belle agreed. Gold noticed that she didn't directly say that she did not believe the boy. That gave him some hope, and hope was important in this godforsaken world. If you did not have hope, you were screwed.

They were quiet for a while. Gold focused on eating something while he had the chance, thinking that if he had learned anything from his time with Belle it was that she had always questions to ask or stories to tell. She was a curious girl who wanted most out of life, and the thing that made books so alluring to her were the stories. She had told him that herself.

Belle was watching him closely, he could feel her stare, but Gold had no idea why. Maybe she was just curious to learn the ways of the monster, learning his weaknesses, like he had accused her of in the Dark Castle.

Finishing his pastry and taking a few gulps of the black coffee, he casually asked, "So, who does he think you are?" Henry was a smart boy, he would probably have guessed right. The question was; did Belle believe it too? He was having a hard time pinpointing her opinion about this fairytale obsession of Henry's; one moment he was picking up a skeptic tone and a skeptic look, the next she looked smug and amused, as if she knew something secret that he didn't.

The second expression was the one she wearing when she answered, "I'm Belle, apparently."

Smart boy, Gold had to admit. He plastered on a fake smile as he asked, "The Beauty?" The fake smile was replaced with a half, real one when Belle blushed. She could try to hide it, but it would not work. Gold knew her too well.

"The one and only," Belle answered with a sly smile.

She had no idea how right she was, Gold thought to himself.

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_The wheel was spinning. Around and around. Rumplestiltskin was watching it closely, letting his thoughts fade away. Around and around, the wheel turned, around and around._

_A cough startled him, and the beast looked over his shoulder to find his beauty, eyes wide and a hand covering her mouth. Her master had had a bad day, a deal had gone wrong, and so she knew that it was a bad idea to interrupt him. But she could control not her cold more than she could change the weather._

_Belle was sitting in a big, green armchair that she had found somewhere in the castle, and she was reading one of her favorites, a green book._

"_I'm sorry," Belle whispered and lifted the book slightly, hiding her face behind the bright cover. Rumplestiltskin watched her disappear with an inner smirk. Outside, though, his facial expression didn't change._

_The master rose from the spinning wheel and slowly walked towards the hiding housekeeper. He put a finger on top of the book and pressed it down. A pair of blue gems stared up at him, still wide. Rumplestiltskin raised his eyebrows at Belle, and she looked down._

"_Are you sick?" Rumplestiltskin finally asked when the silence was so thick you needed a knife to cut through it. It would be a cold day in Hell before he admitted that he was worried, not because the Dark Castle might get dusty in Belle's absence, but because Belle was not okay._

_Belle chose that moment to sneeze, taking the Dark One by surprise. When she noticed his shocked expression, she giggled softly. "I guess I am," she admitted, and closed the book that was now on her lap. "If you do not wish to get sick as well, I think you should stay away from me."_

"_You're forgetting something, dearie," Rumplestiltskin said in his usual mischievous voice. "The Dark One does not get sick."_

_Belle shrugged, accepting his handkerchief. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she said and blew her nose. She hesitated and was just about to give the handkerchief back when she decided against it; it was her that would do the laundry anyway, and he could not go around with a used handkerchief. "Thank you," she added and folded the handkerchief gracefully._

_Rumplestiltskin watched her with a frown. At the moment, two of his thoughts were fighting against each other. The first one wanted to help Belle back into bed, read her a story like he had done for Bae when he was little, and demand that she did not clean one plate before she felt better. The second one warned him that he was starting to get soft and that this girl should not receive special care. She was but another trinket in his collection, and her illness was only a weakness that would haunt her for a few days, it was not an excuse for not working._

"_I'm sorry?" Belle's voice brought Rumplestiltskin back to reality. She was looking curiously at him._

"_No matter," Rumplestiltskin said hesitantly, unsure if he should listen to the first or the second thought. "You should go to bed, dearie. We can't have you running around, falling down the stairs because of your illness. Wouldn't want my caretaker to break."_

_Belle looked at her master, amazed. He did talk about her as if she was a thing and not a living human being, but she could sense the actual concern behind his words. A small smile broke onto her lips, and she carelessly threw an arm around the imp's neck._

_Rumplestiltskin froze. He was stunned to say the least. But then she was gone and out of the door, and Rumplestiltskin had to admit that he missed her warmth. He shook his head and walked back towards the spinning wheel. Maybe, if he spun enough straw into gold, he would understand the confusing creature that was Belle._

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**Thoughts? In next chapter we will move more forward, I promise! I was having quite the trouble with this chapter...**


	3. Chapter 3

**This has to be one of the longest chapters I have ever written. Who is ready for tonight/tomorrow? I know I am.**

**Thank you _so freaking much_ for all of the alerts and reviews! And thank you, kmp121183, for all of your great prompts! In here you will find four of them - guess which :-) Also, shoutout to SqeakyDolphin6 and Condiotti. You guys rock!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time. Plus, there's a Castle reference in there somewhere that I do not own either...  
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**Home Sweet Home, chapter three**

Belle raised her hand and knocked on the door, feeling ridiculous. She had been standing out here the past five minutes for no reason; it was just a meal! There was no way it would become the nightmare she feared.

Mary Margaret had asked her to dinner, probably feeling sorry for the poor girl, and Belle had accepted. What she did not know at the time, was that Emma was living with her, and that meant that the sheriff would be present at the dinner. Belle had found out about the living arrangement this morning, before Henry had started talking about operation Cobra; apparently, the boy was coming to dinner as well. Belle did not fear him; on the contrary, she was relieved that she was not going to be surrounded completely by strangers.

It was not that Belle had anything against Emma. Actually, it had been Emma who had saved her from the damned asylum. Emma had been looking for a scandal that she could tie to Regina – though Belle did not know why – and when she had stumbled across the secret asylum, she had checked it out. Down there, she had found Belle, and she had immediately saved her. Emma had teamed up with the psychiatrist, Archie Hopper, and he had, after a few sessions with her, declared Belle sane.

Belle owed Emma everything, but despite that – or maybe because of that – Belle had no idea what to say to Emma. 'Thank you' was starting to lose its meaning, and it felt odd not to express her thankfulness every time she was in the same room as the blonde-haired woman. Emma, though, was constantly telling her that she had just been doing her job, and that she was glad that she could help.

Mary Margaret opened the door. She smiled friendly at Belle, like the good-natured woman did to all the people of Storybrooke. "You made it," she said, and motioned for Belle to step inside.

"Wouldn't want to miss an actual meal," Belle joked; in this new world she was having trouble cooking herself, even though she had been fairly good at it in her previous life. Cooking all of those meals for Rumplestiltskin could not help her now.

Emma and Henry were already sitting at the table, and they were discussing something rather loudly. Belle listened as she hung up her coat and walked further into the apartment.

"But he can't be Robin Hood!" Henry protested. "He's rich, he's not poor."

Emma sighed and shook her head. For once, she had played along and tried to guess who someone from Storybrooke was in the book, and Henry had refused to think that her theory was even possible – not that it was _real_, just that the personalities kind of fit.

Belle sat down beside Henry. "What are you talking about?" she asked, curious.

Henry looked up, surprised to see Belle's blue eyes looking curiously at him. He sent her a smile. "Hey, Lucy," he greeted. Belle cringed at the sound of the fake name, but she was glad Henry was not using her actual name; it could get both of them into trouble with the sheriff, not enough to get her locked up again, but definitely enough to make Emma think that she was nuts. "We were just talking about Mr. Gold; I can't find out who he is," Henry continued. "Emma thinks he's Robin Hood, but that's just crazy."

Belle looked at Emma, and the sheriff sent her a look that said, "You know who is crazy here, right? Not me." Belle could not hold her smile back. Both the theory on Gold and Emma's almost pleading look were very entertaining.

"Hey!" Henry suddenly exclaimed, looking at Belle victoriously, as if he had just won a big game or quiz. "You must know! I saw you with Mr. Gold in the diner after I left. It looked like you knew him. Do you? Do you know who he is?" The kid was practically bouncing.

"Easy now, Henry," Emma said. "Just because Lucy met him, doesn't it mean she knows him." She turned her head to look at Belle. "Right, Lucy?"

Belle did not register Emma's words; she was lost in thoughts of deals and straw that turned into gold. If only they knew, if only _he_ knew. There had to be a way to break the curse, there simply _had_ to.

"Hello? Earth to Lucy?" Emma's voice finally reached Belle.

She frowned before remembering her question. "Right," she mumbled. "Except… I do know him." Henry looked like he was going to explode. She quickly added, "I mean I do not _know_ know him. I just…" It was hard to explain when she could not tell them about her previous life. Actually, she had trouble explaining the nature of her and Gold's relationship to herself.

Emma's eyes widened. "Oh my God," she said, completely shocked. Belle's gaze wandered from her plate to Emma's face, surprised by the woman's reaction. "You're hot for Gold!"

Blood rose to Belle's cheeks, coloring her face red. Even though Emma's expression was odd, she knew what it meant. "I am not _hot_ for Gold," she scoffed, the words strange on her tongue.

Emma grinned. Her smile was bigger than the Cheshire cat's. "Yes, you are!" she said teasingly. "You wanna make little Gold babies."

Mary Margaret chose that moment to put the salad bowl on the table. Hard. The sound made Belle jump. "Stop it," Mary Margaret scolded. "Leave Lucy alone."

Emma sent Mary Margaret a death stare, but then it looked like she realized how childish she was behaving. She shifted her gaze to look at Belle. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "but you've gotta admit that it's a bit suspicious. Gold only talks to someone if it benefits him." She huffed.

Belle had to smile. It sounded like the Rumplestiltskin she knew. At least the curse had not changed him completely. "People aren't always who you think they are," she said and handed Emma the salad bowl; Mary Margaret had sat down beside Emma, after she had also put the chicken on the table, and it no longer felt rude to start eating.

Mary Margaret smiled bitterly. "You're right," she said, and handed Belle the basket with bread.

Belle accepted the basket, but her mind was elsewhere; she had lost herself in thoughts of him again, this time cursing herself for being a coward and not talking to him earlier. _Months_ had passed. But after Emma had rescued her, she had been afraid that he would not remember, and that she would make a fool out of herself if she ever approached him. She had never seen him in town, though. It had actually felt a bit like he was avoiding her. It was stupid, she knew that, but she had not been able to shake off the feeling before today.

"I'm sorry," Emma said after a few seconds of silence. She had just taken a bite of her chicken, and Belle noticed the disapproving look Mary Margaret sent her. "But he's a bit old for you, don't you think?"

Belle frowned, swallowing an olive and trying to find out whom Emma was referring to. "Who? Gold?" she asked and frowned. "I thought we had just agreed that I'm not interested in him."

Emma shrugged. "I know, but _if_ you were," she said. "Hypothetically. Wouldn't he be way too old for you?"

The woman really had the talent to spot a liar, Belle noticed. She had not fooled Emma with her lie. "Ever heard of the phrase 'love knows no age'?" Belle asked and stabbed the chicken leg with her fork. "Besides, it gives a man character, don't you think?"

Emma looked like she was lost in thoughts, probably comparing Belle's words to her own lover. Well, if it was saving her from having _that_ talk – especially in front of Henry, who was curiously listening to the grown-ups' conversation – she was happy to let the awkward silence fill the apartment.

The rest of the dinner was just that, awkward, even though Mary Margaret and Henry were doing a great job trying to keep the conversation going. Belle did not regret accepting Mary Margaret's invitation, though; at least she now had an idea of what to discuss with Emma the next time the two of them had to be in the same room.

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Brown, but nothing near innocent, eyes stared at her. Soft lips found hers; hands tangled together, and soft moans escaped pink lips. The sheets beneath her were warm and comforting, shielding her sweat-covered body from the cold of the night. Names were whispered in the dark. A hand was in her hair, grabbing it forcefully and forcing her head closer. Closer, closer.

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Belle sat up straight, gasping for air. Her small apartment was dark and cold; she had been too tired to turn up the heat yesterday when she had gotten home from Mary Margaret's place. She did not mind, though, because right now her body was all too warm and fuzzy. With a sigh, she got up from bed and shuffled towards the bathroom. She needed a cold shower.

The cold water made her teeth chatter, but Belle did not care. She needed to wash away the dream… and she needed to stop thinking about it. _It's just a dream,_ she told herself. _Pull yourself together._

Just as Belle had rinsed out the shampoo in her hair, the water was turned off. She frowned and tried to turn and pull the handle. Nothing happened. She cursed the shower, which she had thought magical the first time she had seen it, and grabbed a towel; the cold was too much now.

The beauty tiptoed to her bedroom, wanting to touch the floor as little as possible. She threw the towel on the bed and looked through her closet to find something to wear. The number of dresses she had in her closet was pretty impressive, but the missing trousers made up for it. Belle had refused to wear them; they were only for men, like dresses were only for women.

Belle put on a gray wool dress and a pair of high-heeled shoes. She was no fan of make-up, one of the things that had never made it to the merchant king's kingdom, but she did pull her hair back in a ponytail, mostly because she hated when the wet hair was falling into her eyes.

After a quick breakfast, consisting of an egg and a banana, Belle was out of the door. She walked through the town of Storybrooke, passing by Granny's on the way. Hesitantly, she glanced through one of the windows, but when she did not find who she was looking for, she kept on walking.

It was only when she reached the pawnshop, she stopped. The sign read 'OPEN', even though it had to be around seven in the morning. Rumplestiltskin had always woken up before she did, but Belle was a bit surprised that he would open up his shop this early. Then again, this was Rumplestiltskin she was talking about; he would never let anything get in the way of a deal. Taking a deep breath and forcing herself to forget the still-haunting dream, Belle pushed open the door and walked into the shop.

Her heart immediately ached. The shop was filled with all kinds of trinkets, and some of them Belle remembered from the Dark Castle. Most of them, though, she did not recognize, and she figured they had to belong to the people of Storybrooke. Somehow, the shop reminded her too much of the Dark Castle and her previous life, and not only because of all the stuff. There was something in the air, something that was entirely _him_, and that could not be replaced or faked. Had she ever been in doubt, she was certain now; it was him. Mr. Gold was Rumplestiltskin.

Belle was about to say something, her gaze still lingering on one of the trinkets, a vase, that she had once almost broken, when Gold appeared. "Miss French, how lovely to see you again," he greeted, his voice still as smooth and silky as Belle remembered it to be. She suddenly realized what had changed, and why he did not sound exactly like himself; he had lost his insane touch, the one that could fool most people, but the one she had seen right through. Belle knew it was too dangerous to seem insane in this town, and maybe Gold had realized that as well.

She smiled friendly at him. "I told you, it's Lucy," she said. Belle hated her fake name, but it was better he called her that than 'Miss French'. At least he did not sound formal.

Gold nodded but did not comment. "What brings you to my shop this morning?" he asked instead, and Belle was briefly worried that he did not want her there.

Suddenly nervous, she said, "I was showering this morning." The expression on Gold's face made her nervousness disappear, and she smirked cheekily. Maybe she was not the only one having those dreams… "But then the water was cut off," she added.

Even though he was the ever calm and collected Mr. Gold, the pawnbroker needed a few seconds for his brain to catch up. Belle watched him with an amused grin. "And your point being?" he finally asked, when he could not think of a reason she was telling him this.

Belle's grin did not disappear. "My point is, I think my father forgot to pay the bills," she explained. "He has been insisting on doing it ever since I got out, but he has never really had the money. I figured I should start paying my bills – and my rent – myself, but to do that, I need a job."

A frown was visible on Gold's forehead, and it did not look like Belle's explanation had helped him understand. "And naturally you came here?" he asked, still confused.

Belle walked closer, not able to help it. She had been away from him for so long; she needed to know that he was here, and that he was not going to disappear right in front of her. "I thought you might need some help," she said. "Organizing, cleaning, doing paperwork. Those kind of stuff."

Gold watched the beauty with an unreadable expression on his face. Belle tried to see through the mask, but he had gotten better at hiding his emotions from her.

Finally, he agreed. "I suppose it couldn't hurt." He still sounded like he could not believe it, but more like the old Rumplestiltskin; like he could not believe a beauty like her would want to be near him, much less work for him.

Belle sent the dealmaker a smile; she wanted him to understand that she was not going anywhere. "Great," she said, "so I start tomorrow?"

Gold nodded, a strange glint in his eyes. Belle's heart quickened. Was that… recognition? Did he remember?

"See you then, Lucy." With those words, Belle's hope was crushed. She tried to smile, but it was more a flash of teeth. Damned curse.

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**Thoughts? Next chapter is Gold.**

**Prompts used: Awkward, Cheeky, Age Difference and "Sound Of White" by Missy Higgins.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's an idea; how about we go find that teacup and stomp on it? Maybe then Gold will come to his senses? Yes, I watched the finale. So many mixed feelings. I'm not sure if I wanna kiss or kill Gold. But the finale has just made my story one hundred percent AU, which I'm actually fine with!**

**This is a small chapter, but I needed to cut it there. You'll see...  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time.**

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**Home Sweet Home, chapter four**

It was a familiar, yet strange sight. Mr. Gold was watching his new employee walk around, looking at all the things collected in the shop, and sometimes she would climb the ladder in her search. Belle had asked if he had a list of all the things in the shop, and Gold had admitted that he had not written such a thing. His Belle had then huffed and insisted on doing a full list. It would make it easier if someone was looking for something special, she had said. Gold had agreed; anything to keep her here, with him.

Belle picked up a vase, looking at it admirably. Gold felt a pang of sadness. She had almost broken that vase, once upon a time. Now she was looking at it, as if it was the first time she had laid her eyes upon it. His beautiful, lost Belle. When would she remember? Gold would do anything to meet that judging, disgusted glare again; he would do anything to make her call him a coward. Anything but the oblivious, _fake_ state she was in.

It was Regina's fault. Everything wrong in this hellhole was the queen's fault.

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_The sun was shining for once, and outside the birds were chirping. Mr. Gold should be happy, or at least less heartbroken and bitter than usual. Instead, he was furious. She had lied. _She had lied._ The evil bitch had lied. He felt like ripping off her head and dancing on her grave. The bitch had told him his precious Belle had died, that she was gone forever, and there was no getting her back. Now, though, a living, breathing Belle proved Regina wrong. She was very much alive._

_Rumplestiltskin had felt many emotions through the years, and the one of revenge was nothing new to him, but the intensity of this rage surprised him. His veins were filled with hot-boiled anger, and on his tongue lay a curse, ready to be cast. Except, in this world he could not use curses. In this world he would have to use his hands. He would have to get dirty._

_Ah, well. Rumplestiltskin was a monster. He could handle dirty, red hands._

"_You're not a monster." Belle's words flashed through his mind, and Gold gripped his cane, locking his jaws in a painful expression. Belle. His Belle. She was alive. She was alive, but she was hurt. Because of that bitch._

_Emma had dropped by his shop. He had always had a knack for names, especially regarding the people of Storybrooke. She had asked about the girl in the asylum. For once, Gold had been at lost. He had no idea what she was talking about. Then Emma explained the girl's story, and Gold was certain he was having a stroke. His facial expression, though, had remained indifferent, and he had calmly told Emma that she was probably the French girl. The sheriff's eyes had widened, but she had not mentioned that night in the woods. She had just hurried out of Gold's shop and left him alone with his thoughts and anger._

_That bitch. She was going to pay. She was going to pay dearly._

_Rumplestiltskin almost didn't close the shop after him; only when he remembered that he had moved the precious teacup to a secret place in his shop did he turn around to lock the door after him. _

_His cane slammed hard against the pavement as he made his way through the town. He ignored the looks people were sending him; after all, were they any different from yesterday's looks?_

_Mayor Mills were sitting alone in her office. She sent the furious Rumplestiltskin a flash of teeth that was not quite a smile. "Mr. Gold," she said. Her voice was filled with venom, and her eyes were narrowed. She looked like the snake she was. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"_

_Rumplestiltskin did not bother stop walking; he only stopped when he reached Regina's desk. The queen just looked up at him, as if she was bored. She was not even trying to look interested. That only fueled his anger. "You bitch!" he spat, and for once he did not care about keeping calm or not losing control. Since he had yelled at his precious Belle, he had not lost his temper, but Belle had to forgive him for this; there was no way he was going to talk friendly with this evil bitch. "You lied. You _lied_. You locked her away, and you lied!"_

_Regina chuckled. "Oh, Rumple, Rumple, Rumple," she said, amused. "Is this about that girl again?"_

"_Belle!" Rumplestiltskin said furiously. "Her name is _Belle_. Not Margie, not Verna. Belle." The bitch would not even say her name? How the hell did she dare? Did she not realize what this meant? Belle was _alive_. His precious Belle. How the hell did the bitch dare act like nothing had happened?_

_Regina raised her eyebrows. She did not look impressed._

"_You're going to pay," Rumplestiltskin said, lowering his eyes. He smiled wickedly when he saw the brief glint of fear in the bitch's eyes. Good. She deserved being afraid. She deserved a slow, painful, frightening death._

_The gold handle on the cane glistened in the light, as Rumplestiltskin held it high, ready to let the hard wood meet the Regina's fragile skin and bones. The wicked grin had disappeared, leaving his face scarily empty. "You devil," he angrily said, and swung the cane towards her head, her scull. He needed to hear the cracking sound._

_Only, the cane never did reach Regina's scull. Out of the blue appeared two pair of hands. They grabbed his cane and his arms, pinning him against the desk and trapping him in a tight grip. Rumplestiltskin wriggled and tried to get free, but the human body he was trapped in had its limits._

_Regina sent him a broad smile. "You didn't think I would let you get away with it, did you now?" she said calmly. Rumplestiltskin only looked at her, hoping that, for once, looks actually _could _kill. "Guards, will you please escort Mr. Gold out?"_

_The hands pulled Rumplestiltskin backwards, and the man gave up and followed. He was not strong or quick enough to do what he came for if Regina had the men on her side._

_One day, he promised. One day, Regina was going to get what she deserved, and then there would be no guards to save her. Until then, he would make sure Belle was safe._

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After the incident with Regina, Gold had not gotten any more chances to make her pay, but he had kept his last promise; he had kept Belle safe. He had pulled some strings, making sure she had found the apartment she was currently renting, and had conveniently changed the cost of the rent to the half. Some might think he had kept an eye on her physically and not only through the gossip at Granny's, but he had not; he had not wanted to be tempted to force his way back into her life. It was her decision, just like it had been hers before. _"No one decides my fate but me."_ He had not forgotten that speech.

When Gold had seen his beauty in Granny's that morning, he had not the strength to stay away, but he had told himself that he was only doing what a friendly neighbor should; say hello. He would not force her to seek his company or talk to him; it would still be her decision.

Belle had just climbed the ladder once more, and she was leaning dangerously to the right, trying to reach something on a shelf. Gold did not wish for a repeat of the past; this time he was not fit to save her, not with his leg.

"Aren't you afraid you will fall, dearie?" he asked, which made her jump slightly. The ladder shook under her, but she did not fall.

"No," Belle said, distracted by that thing on the shelf. "I have you to catch me, right?" She reached out and snatched what appeared to be an emblem from the shelf, and climbed down the ladder. "See, nothing happened," she added to her employer with a grin, and then she walked to the paper on the counter and wrote down what she had found.

Gold could happily have watched Belle all day long, but because of the burden of having no magic in this world, he had to actually write down all his contracts, and right now a certain redhead owed him…

"I'll be right in here if you need me, dearie," he said, leaving the main room of the shop to enter the private room in the back. He heard Belle hum, and figured it meant that she had heard him.

Gold lost himself in paperwork, and when he finally was pulled out of his thoughts, the clock had struck six. Belle had called out his name, causing him to ruin his neatly made contract. It did not matter, though. He would do anything for Belle; writing a new contract was nothing.

Grapping his cane, Gold got on his feet and walked back into his shop.

The sight that met him nearly made his heart stop. Belle was standing there, an accusing glint in her eyes and a chipped teacup in her hand. Had it been anyone else, Gold would have snatched the teacup out of her hand and demanded to know how she had found it, but it was not anyone else. It was Belle. _His _Belle. And her cold, accusing stare could only mean one thing.

"You remember?"

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**Du du du duuuun! To be continued ...**

**Thoughts? What do you think will happen?**


	5. Chapter 5

**You guys are awesome! I have never updated a fic as fast as this one. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations, but it was hard to write, so yeah... Don't get your hopes up! ;-)**

**Disclaimer: I'm a fifteen-year-old girl, living in a small country in Europe. There's no way I'd own Once Upon a Time.**

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**Home Sweet Home, chapter five**

In Belle's hand, she held the teacup, the one that had always accompanied Rumplestiltskin in her dreams. There was only one reason why Gold would have it, and the look on his face, like a deer caught in the headlights, only confirmed her theory. Hot-boiled rage rose inside of Belle, cursing through her veins. She was not sure why she felt such anger, but she knew that she could not contain it.

"You remember?" she said, the icy tone somewhat out of character. Gold froze, and she watched as realization crept over his face.

After a few seconds of shocking honesty, Gold covered up his emotions and hid them well behind his mask. Belle was tired of looking at that mask; she had already seen it all too many times.

Once, she had worn it herself. It had been a cold night at a tavern, and not so few men had offered her a warm bed to sleep in. She had thought of him, who had only had a cold cell for her, and had let the bitter feelings tear away the rest of the shown emotions on her face. It had worked, and soon all the men had kept to themselves.

"Lucy," Mr. Gold began, and Belle tried not to grimace. Rumplestiltskin had by no means ever been a stupid man, so why was he turning into one now? "Lucy, can you plea-"

Belle decided to talk before all bravery failed her. "Don't play games with me, Rumplestiltskin!" she snapped, watching as he paled in horror. Belle had lived with Rumplestiltskin for months, back when he had been the most feared creature in all the realms; she was bound to have picked up some tricks. Except, it did not feel as great as she had imagined. Giving him bad conscience, that is.

Nevertheless, Belle kept going, and soon enough she felt the rage inside of her grow. "So," she said, her calm and icy voice back. "You _do_ remember, huh? When were you going to tell me?" Her question was rhetorical, so she plunged on when he opened his mouth to answer. "No, don't answer; I'm still mad at you."

When Belle had spotted Rumplestiltskin in Granny's diner, she had put away all of her hurt and anger; it would not be fair to blame a man, who could not recall anything from his previous life. Now, though, Belle saw no reason not to make him feel sorry and regret his decision to throw her out of the Dark Castle. She needed to convince him that he was in love with her, just as she was in love with him – which could be a hard task – and she needed to make him understand that he had acted wrongly.

Belle put down the chipped teacup and watched it for a moment. Then she looked up to meet Gold's indifferent gaze. The man had hid behind his mask again.

"Thinking I was working for _Regina_ of all people?" Belle continued her tirade. "When are you going to learn, Rumplestiltskin? I love you, and you love me. There is _no_ excuse for you to think otherwise!" She crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at the most powerful man she had ever known, as if he was nowhere near as powerful as she.

Belle had kept her accusations locked up inside of her, not wanting to talk ill of the man who was already hated in all the lands, and she now knew that she had been bottling up her anger for too long; there was no way it was going to come to an end. But in her state, she did not care. She _wanted_ the anger to last, and she wanted to make Rumplestiltskin regret his stupid decision.

_What are you doing? Do you want him to despise you?_ There was a small voice of reason in the back of Belle's mind. It was hard to ignore, but Belle managed it. The voice would have to wait until later.

"Belle-" Rumplestiltskin started, but Belle cut him off again. She refused to let him talk, she refused to let his silky voice trick her and steal away her anger.

"No, don't interrupt me! I'm not done," Belle said, the words tumbling out of her mouth without getting approval from her brain. "I really thought that you were braver than this – that the years we've spent apart had taught you a lesson – but apparently you are still the coward you always were."

Only Belle's quick breathing and two sets of heartbeats broke the silence between them.

"_Now_ I'm done," Belle hissed between her teeth, "_completely_ done."

A bell signaled her exit, and so did the slamming door.

Outside, it was raining. Belle did not mind; it suited her mood. She was not wearing a jacket – she had forgotten it in the pawnshop – and soon she could feel the cold water slip through her dress and soak her underwear. Honestly, Belle felt like she was in a movie, and she could almost hear a sappy, romantic song reaching its climax, the drums and violins ready for their big moment.

For a moment, Belle let herself dwell in that thought. She closed her eyes and stopped walking. If it had been a movie, her true love would have ran after her, bad leg be damned, and apologized right then and there. He would have pulled her into a kiss powerful enough to make her forget her own name.

But this was no movie; it was reality, and none of these things would ever happen. Rumplestiltskin did not want her then, and he clearly did not want her now. Otherwise, he would have told her that he remembered, and he would have apologized for his harsh words the moment he saw her. Even though Belle knew with all of her heart that Rumplestiltskin loved her, she also knew that something had happened to him, and that he now was afraid of a life filled with love. He did not want her love. He did not want her.

Wiping away the tears – though there really was no reason to; her face was covered in raindrops anyway – Belle opened her eyes and kept on walking.

When Belle had worked at the Dark Castle, sometimes she would whistle or hum a song, and she had done that one night in the middle of a thunderstorm. It had helped her stay calm – she had never liked the lightning and the frightening sounds – and she wondered if it would help her now. Thinking it could not hurt, Belle started humming one of her old favorites. Honestly, with the anger still boiling in her blood, all she wanted was to scream the words, but she kept her hysteria in check; it would not help to start acting crazy, not when all the people in Storybrooke already knew about her past.

Belle reached her apartment building seconds before the first lightning bathed the street in a sudden, white light. It was followed closely by the thunder, and Belle had to pull herself together before she got the nerves to enter her apartment building, and later her apartment.

The apartment was cold, but Belle quickly turned on the heat. She was shivering, finally realizing how cold she was.

The shower really was a gift from the gods, Belle decided when she stepped out of the bathroom. She was clad in a simple nightgown, one that reminded her of one of her old dresses from the fairytale land. In her hand, she held a book. She had saved this one for a special occasion, knowing that with a plot this great, it was going to be one of the best books she had ever read. Originally, she had thought she would save it for something different entirely, but her desperate situation called for a desperate, though temporary, solution. She had found the book in a small box in the bathroom, hidden beneath a couple of knick-knacks.

Belle curled up on her small couch and opened the book. She quickly lost herself in the book, though her thoughts kept drawing parallels between the love story and her own love life.

The book was truly wonderful, and as the story grew from a silly crush to earthshattering love, Belle slowly reached the end. When she had read the last word, Belle sighed deeply, her thoughts returning to _him_. She could not help it. Even if she had been lost in the book's wonders for some time, she had to wake up.

Outside of her window, the streets of Storybrooke were dark, more so than they usually were in the evening. Confused, Belle looked at a small watch. 2 o'clock. She had been reading for nearly eight hours straight. Her sight should be blurry, and her eyelids should be heavy, but they were not. Belle was not tired.

Realizing she was not going to get any sleep, Belle rose from the couch. She just stood there for a moment, letting the regrets of the day really hit her. Her breath was shallow, and she was cursing herself silently. She was no better than Rumplestiltskin; her cowardice was even greater than his. Belle had thrown everything away because of an old accusation, and it had been the only thing she had thought of, when she had found out that he truly did remember. She had not thrown herself into his arms, only wanting him to hold her close. She had not kissed him and damned any costumer that might have set their foot inside the shop.

She had pushed him away.

"You messed up," Belle whispered to herself.

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**Thoughts?**

**Just so we're clear: the line, "You remember?" was only spoken once, and it was spoken by Belle!**


	6. Chapter 6

**First of all; _thank you very much_ for all of your reviews, alerts and favorites *hug through computer screen***

**I'm sorry for not updating earlier! But I think you will be pleased to know that I have sketched out 7 more chapters, including an ultimate cliff of doom. Who's ready for some delicious angst, hmmm?**

**All that aside, this chapter is more of a filler, and I apologize for OOCness. Emma's a difficult character to write.. *shrugs***

**Disclaimer: _No. But_ I_ will_. One day. Hopefully. Nah, not gonna happen. Also, English is not my native language. I wish it was, though...**

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**Home Sweet Home, chapter six**

Mr. Gold had never been fond of sunshine. Even before his precious Belle had come along and ruined all hopes of looking at a curtain without seeing her face, the sun had never been a friend of his. It was in the midst of a dark night that the most desperate people sought him out, and therefore more and better deals were struck in the moonlight. But now, his hatred towards the sun increased.

He was lying in his bed, his cane thrown carelessly on the floor. The clothes he was wearing was the same clothing he had worn the day before. There was a throbbing in his head, and a sick feeling in his stomach. And the sun was casting its light on his face, making sure his headache did not disappear.

Mr. Gold squinted at the light and tried to remember how he had ended up like this.

Ah, yes. The coward had drowned his sorrows in a bottle of expensive scotch… or two. He had collapsed on his bed when he had lost the feeling of pain in his leg, which was never a good sign in this world. Now, he had to pay the price for his careless actions.

Outside, the birds were chirping cheerfully, and a child's laugh cut through the air, followed by a couple of adult voices. The sounds were all very loud, too loud for Gold's liking.

Rumplestiltskin had created the curse a long time ago, and still he remembered his intentions as if it were yesterday. The main reason the curse was created was that Rumplestiltskin wanted to find his son, and he could only do that if he was transported to the land without magic himself. But because of his own misery, the curse had taken a more dangerous form, as he had proceeded; back then, the mere thought of a happy ending had made him want to gag, and therefore the curse also ripped that away from the people that were cursed. The memory loss was added to the mix for safety; in a land without magic, Rumplestiltskin was going to have as little power as the people surrounding him, and they would want revenge, but if he also ripped away their memories, they would not have a reason to seek revenge.

Never had Rumplestiltskin regretted creating the curse – it was his only chance of finding Bae – but now he cursed himself for being bitter. If only he had let people have their happy ending, then Belle might have given him time to explain, and then he might not have woken up this morning, alone and drunk, but with her at his side. Because the curse treated him like any other citizen of Storybrooke when it came to love.

No matter what Rumplestiltskin did, he always ended up ruining any chance of happiness or love. Maybe it was intentional; maybe he was such a coward that he could not bear the thought of someone else screwing it up, so he did it himself.

Even though he only had himself to blame, Rumplestiltskin was starting to get really angry at Regina, more so than he had already been, and he wished he had just beaten her skull in that eye-opening afternoon, when he had realized his love was alive after all.

Needless to say, Mr. Gold was not happy when Regina stepped into his shop that morning with a knowing smirk on her face. He had taken a shower and changed his clothes in an attempt to look presentable, and then he had hurried to the shop, hoping work would chase remaining thoughts of his precious Belle away.

Regina's presence did not help.

"Mayor Mills." Gold forced a polite smile. "What can I help you with?"

Regina absentmindedly touched the counter and let her fingers wander on the dark oak. She looked at her fingertips, and smiled as if she knew a dark secret. "Emma, that unthankful girl, wants custody over Henry, and I need a lawyer," she answered and finally looked up.

Gold frowned. He did not want to be near Regina, and he figured she felt the same way, so why would she hire him as a lawyer? Surely, Sidney Glass was safer choice; he would not crush her skull the moment she turned her back to him. "So, if I understand you correct, you want me to take your case?" he asked, just to be on the safe side, before he started agreeing to blind deals.

Regina smirked and leaned against the counter, her hip pushing slightly to an old clock. "No, I want you to take Emma's case," she answered. "I want you to destroy whatever little chance she has of taking away my son."

Even though Gold owed Regina nothing, he could not get those words out of his head. If Rumplestiltskin understood anything, it was the need to make sure that one's child was safe. It had, after all, been what had sculptured him into what he was today.

It was not enough, though, to make him agree. Rumplestiltskin never made deals without getting anything out of it. "What do I get out of it, dearie?" he asked, his voice smooth as ever. For decades, he had practiced the skill of hiding one's emotions, and he was pretty good at it. The only one, who had seen through his mask of indifference, had been Belle. And he could even fool her from time to time.

Regina dodged away his question with one of her own, "Where's your little helper, Rumple?"

Gold's knuckles turned white as he gripped his cane. The rest of his appearance was indifferent, though. "What has Miss French got to do with anything?" he asked, his voice a bit tense.

"Oh, nothing really," Regina said playfully. She sounded like a cat that had just hunted down a mouse, and now was playing with it. "I'm just worried. This job, it kept her stable, and we would hate to see her go back to that asylum, wouldn't we?"

When Belle had been rescued from the asylum, Gold had honestly expected Regina to give up and admit defeat; she no longer had anything that could cripple him – metaphorically speaking, of course – but he should have been prepared for this. Even though Regina no longer had Belle locked up and under supervision, the evil queen was still the mayor. Belle could still be used against him, albeit less than before.

"You wouldn't dare," Gold said coolly.

Regina's smirk widened. "Try me," she challenged.

Gold hated to admit that Regina actually had the power – and the dark soul – to make sure that Belle was locked up again. There was no way he would let that happen, of course.

"Mr. Gold?" Emma's voice cut through the silence, and Gold watched Regina stiffen slightly. Her smile fell, and she gave Gold a last, warning look. A look that said, 'We are not done discussing this'. Then she turned and walked out of the door, not bothering to greet Emma on her way out.

Gold visibly relaxed. At least he now had enough time to think things through and maybe come up with a plan, before he had to suck up to Regina. There was more than one reason why Rumplestiltskin had sworn never to love again.

Emma folded her arms across her chest and stared at Gold with a raised eyebrow. "What did you do to her?" she said, her voice as cold as steel.

The raised voice made Gold grimace; at least Regina had kept her voice low and smooth. "And who, may I ask, are you referring to?" he asked.

The sheriff looked at him as if he had just asked what color the sky was. "Lucy French," she answered, narrowing her eyes. "What did you do?"

'I threw her out of my castle, made sure that everyone hated her, and lastly I'm the reason she was tortured for God knows how long,' Gold was about to answer, but he managed to stop the words before he actually said them out loud. Even if the savior believed, it did not concern her. Actually, Gold was surprised she would defend Belle like this. Sure, Emma had been the one to rescue Belle, but the two women had never gotten along easily. And that thought made Gold nervous; if _Emma_ was here regarding Belle, something serious must have happened.

"Is she alright?" he asked, his mushy brain sharpening, despite the lingering headache.

The question seemed to confuse Emma. "Well, currently, she's sleeping it off at Mary Margaret's place," she said, earning a confused look. "Look, all I wanted was to tell you that I did not get her out of that asylum only for you to drive her nuts and get her locked up again."

Gold chuckled humorlessly. Apparently, he was not the only one who had sought comfort in the bottle. He could only guess that Belle had regretted the fight as much as he had. It _would_ make it easier to talk to her. "Don't worry about it, sheriff," he answered. "I'm not a monster."

Except he was, and even though he had no right to, he was going to talk to Belle tonight and ask for her forgiveness.

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**Thoughts?**

**If anyone's interested, I've finally pulled myself together and gotten a tumblr; onceuponaprettycastle(dot)tumblr(dot)com is my URL :-) Remove (dot) and replace it with an actual dot!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm sorry for the last chapter; I realize my mistake, and that I was not completely true to the characters and the story *ducks head* Now, I've reoploaded chapter seven with a new ending, one I actually thought about ending it with; right about when we start to feel all mushy inside. Then I will take it from there, and I promise not to make Belle mean again. Can you forgive me? *puppy eyes***

**Disclaimer: Seriously?**

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**Home Sweet Home, chapter seven**

The first thing Belle noticed when she woke up was the burning light that forced her to squint. She whimpered quietly when a throbbing pain shot through her skull, and moved in the very comfortable bed.

Belle froze and let her hand wander across her pillow. The fabric under her fingertips was not familiar, and for a moment the beauty cursed herself for being so foolish. She should have known that nothing good came out of drowning her sorrows in the bottle.

Last night, she had not been able to sleep, and around 3 o'clock she had decided to find out what Storybrooke looked like in the night. One, small pub had not closed yet – the karaoke night had forced the owner to keep it open all night – and Belle soon found herself at the pub's bar, next to a familiar face. Dreamy, apparently, also drowned his sorrows in this world, though he was a bit grumpier than Belle remembered him to be. He talked about nuns and promises, and Belle was not surprised to learn that the fairies had transferred into nuns, and that Dreamy's love was one of them. The two of them had talked for a little while, and Dreamy – _Leroy_ – had offered her a drink.

After the first couple of drinks, everything got kind of mushy, and Belle did not remember _exactly_ how she got on that stage, and how Leroy got her convinced to sing one of the very popular songs in this world. She could also not remember, how she had ended up in a bed that was not hers, but she was hoping for the best.

Soft voices from the kitchen interrupted Belle's thoughts, and she listened closely to them. After a while, she recognized the women's voices as Emma and Mary Margaret's, and she sighed and closed her eyes. Relief flooded through her veins, and her body suddenly felt lighter. There was a small pang of disappointment, though, but she refused to think about whom she would also have been comfortable waking up with.

Belle reluctantly left the bed and walked out of the bedroom to join Mary Margaret and Emma, who were currently eating late breakfast. Cold pancakes and hot chocolate were waiting for Belle on the other side of the table, and her stomach growled impatiently.

Mary Margaret turned and smiled invitingly at Belle. "Good morning, Lucy," she greeted teasingly. "I was almost afraid you would not make it out of the bed today. Have a seat; we've saved you some pancakes."

Not a minute later, Belle was almost halfway through her first pancake. She was watching Emma and Mary Margaret; there was something odd about them. It was like they were just about to say something, but kept deciding not to talk in the last minute. "Thank you," Belle finally said. "For the breakfast, for saving me last night, and for letting me sleep in your bed."

"You're welcome," Mary Margaret said kindly and scooped up a small amount of whipped cream from her mug. As she licked it off her finger, she looked judgingly at Belle, as if she had just decided that maybe they should tell her what was going on. Belle hoped her theory was right; she could not stand those all-knowing looks any longer.

It looked like Emma picked up on Mary Margaret's thoughts, and she agreed. With a soft sigh, she said, "Is there anything you'd like to tell us?"

Belle frowned and shook her head. Then she remembered. Oh, God. She had never been very discreet when she was drunk, not even at her father's rare parties, and she remembered talking last night – lots of talking. She could only hope that she had talked to Leroy and had practically been unconscious when Mary Margaret had picked her up.

Emma moved uncomfortably on her chair. "Lucy," she began carefully. "Whatever has happened between you and Mr. Gold, you can tell us. We're your friends; we won't judge. We only want to help."

Belle's gaze shifted to her pancakes. She lost her appetite, but she kept eating. In her lifetime, she had certainly eaten worse breakfast. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, and faked ignorance.

"Look, the man assaulted your father and got away with it, I understand why you're scared of him," Emma said, refusing to believe Belle's lie.

Belle might have feared Rumplestiltskin, once upon a time, but now she found it absurd to think of him as frightening. He was only a man; even more of a man in this world, and no man was as fearsome as Emma made him out to be.

"I am not scared of Mr. Gold," Belle said, looking up from her plate and meeting Emma's eyes, "and I really have no idea what you're talking about."

Emma mumbled something about being the first, but Belle ignored her and took a sip of her cocoa.

After a few minutes of empty silence, Emma could not hold the words back any longer. "I talked to him today, before you woke up," she confessed, earning a shocked look from Belle. Emma might have thought that she was helping, but the last thing Belle wanted to do was to make Rumplestiltskin even angrier with her; she had already made him furious by daring not to hear him out. His rage would make it that harder to talk to him.

"Why?" Belle managed to choke out.

Emma narrowed her eyes, as if she had just found new evidence in a very important case, and Belle realized how she had sounded. Scared. To make up for her slip, she straightened her back and took another sip of her cocoa.

Belle hated to admit it, but maybe she _was_ scared. Not of Rumplestiltskin, of course, never of him. But maybe she was afraid of the prospect of living her life without him because of a stupid mistake. That had to be it. She was not afraid of being with the man, but being without him. Belle had already tried living without him for thirty years, and she would rather not experience the heartbreak once more.

Mary Margaret chose that moment to speak, after she had shot a disapproving glance in Emma's direction. "Mr. Gold is dangerous, Lucy," she said in her sweet, motherly voice that no one could dismiss as annoying or weird. It seemed right, somehow, despite her seemingly young age. Belle knew better, of course. "Emma was only trying to look out for you. She meant no harm."

Belle knew Mary Margaret was right, and even though she was not pleased, Emma had only done what she found right. Belle should appreciate that she had friends that would protect her. And, really, she did. "I know, and I appreciate the thought. I just want to sort everything out myself."

Belle had expected the two women to confront her of said 'everything' that needed to be sorted out, but instead they kept quiet. She was grateful; her head was starting to ache again, and the constant throbbing was ruining her concentration.

In the end, Belle made her excuses – it was known that she worked at the pawnshop, and with Gold's reputation, it was easy to convince Emma and Mary Margaret that she had to go to work – and walked home. She had put on the same dress she had worn yesterday, and had promised to wash Mary Margaret's clothes, even though she had protested. Belle wanted to do something for the former queen, despite her nonexistent knowledge when it came to this world's strange inventions.

The streets of Storybrooke were mostly empty, and the beauty only slowed her pace when she caught the sight of a familiar face. From where she was standing, she could see right through one of the windows in the pawnshop, and even though she was standing on the opposite side of the road, she was able to make out the lines in his face. Belle had always been good at reading her love's thoughts, but right now she could only see his frustration. Worried, she wondered if he was regretting ever talking to her, in this life or the other, and if he would rather have wanted a simple trinket from her father, than her services at the Dark Castle.

"_I don't want you anymore, dearie."_ Was it really so? Had he never wanted her? Belle hated the possibility of being wrong in the dungeon, all those years ago. Maybe his power _was_ more important to him than her, even in this world.

Pushing the thoughts away, Belle forced herself to walk faster, and soon enough she reached the apartment. She felt like a stranger, and even though she felt gross and dirty, she did not shower, which she had planned to do. Instead, Belle pulled her dress over her head and grabbed a comfortable bathrobe from the bathroom. It was all fluffy and pink, and it made her feel slightly better.

When someone knocked on the door, Belle groggily sat up on the couch; she had fallen asleep while watching the news on her magic mirror. She pushed her tousled hair behind her ear, and reluctantly noticed that she did not have the time to get dressed. With a quiet sigh, she padded to the front door and opened it slowly.

There, on her doorstep, a familiar man was standing. He was trying to suppress his heavy breathing and the nervous glint in his eyes. But there was also an aura of collected determination surrounding him.

"Rumplestiltskin," Belle breathed, suddenly very aware of her appearance. She grabbed the upper edges of her bathrobe and pulled them closer, a rosy color spreading across her cheeks. There was not a lot she could do about her hair, which must look like a haystack.

An unexpected smile graced Rumplestiltskin's lips, and Belle watched in wonder. She had never seen such a smile, especially from him. The smile was full of love and amazement, as if he was still trying to find out how a beast like him could deserve such a beauty. It made Belle blush, and she wordlessly motioned for him to step inside the apartment.

Unable to contain the words, Belle blurted out, "I'm sorry." Rumplestiltskin turned around and looked at her with a funny expression on his face. Belle had the sudden urge to laugh, both of the expression, but also of their rather awkward situation. Her distant memories of etiquette lessons on the castle stopped her, though.

"I'm the one who should apologize, love," Rumplestiltskin admitted, leaning heavily against his cane and observing her calmly. Belle briefly wondered if his calmness was an act, just like hers. "I should have never said the things I did, and you were right. You've always been right, Belle. I am a coward. I should have accepted your love, and I should've never had thrown you out of the Dark Castle."

It had never been easy to make Rumplestiltskin admit to something like this, whether it was in the previous lifetime or not, and even though Belle had known this from the start, all she could do was stare at him. After all these years, waiting to hear these words, she was not sure of what she should do. To keep her hands busy – they itched to comb through her hair, and to grab him by the collar and make sure that he knew just how much she loved him, and how sorry she was – she wrapped her arms around herself, as if she were cold.

"You're right," Belle finally said. Her words could have cut like a knife if she had used the right tone, but instead she softened her voice. She did not want to pour more salt into the wound, but they had to discuss this in order to move on. "You should've."

"Can you forgive me?"

Belle was mildly surprised, but also pleased, that he did not apologize again or made up some stupid excuse for doing what he did. He was standing by his mistake, regretting it, but not running away from it. Maybe he was not such a coward after all.

Looking up, the beauty found Rumplestiltskin's brown eyes watching her closely. Somehow, she had ended up mere inches away from him, his breath tickling her neck. She swallowed, and her smile disappeared slowly. His hungry eyes told her that even if he did not look as the old Rumplestiltskin, he still had some darkness left in him.

"Of course I can, you stupid man," Belle whispered. She had forgotten how to breathe properly, and her heart was galloping in her chest. Her gaze flickered, almost automatically, down to his lips. When she got the self-restraint to look away, she noticed a smug glint in Rumplestiltskin's eyes. Stubbornly, she refused to blush and look away. Instead, she held his gaze.

She was not sure who moved first, but soon they were lost in a mind-numbing kiss. In the previous lifetime, their kiss had been sweet and soft, and Belle had loved every second of it. She had not expected any future kiss to be half as wonderful and _them_, but now Rumplestiltskin proved her wrong. They moved as if they had done this a million times, as if they had known each other for thousands of years. All nervousness and bittersweet feelings were gone, replaced by pure desire.

The enchantment was broken when Belle knocked her leg hard against the edge of her sofa table. She hissed a breathless curse and shifted her weight unto the other foot, trying to gain back her dignity.

It was too late; Rumplestiltskin was giggling at her, amused by her clumsiness. For a moment, he sounded exactly like Belle remembered him, all high pitches and sharp humor. It was enough to mend her wounded pride, but she was still annoyed by the interruption; she had waited thirty years to kiss this man, and now the magical moment was ruined.

Realizing what she had just thought, Belle cursed silently at herself for being so foolishly naïve. With Rumplestiltskin, nothing would be like in the fairytales. While Belle was sure that she would have her happy ending with her love, the journey was going to be difficult. She did not doubt that it would be worth the fight, though.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Belle flung her arms around Rumplestiltskin's neck and held him close. She buried her face in his shoulder, and smiled when she felt his arm around her back.

Her smile grew even bigger at his next words.

"I love you."

Honestly, Belle felt like she could cry, but she had always been a strong woman, and she refused to let Rumplestiltskin think otherwise. If he was going to be the coward, then she was going to be the brave one. She would be brave for him.

And to prove that, she whispered back, "I love you too."

* * *

**So, we'll take it from there. Satisfied with the new ending? :-)**


End file.
